This is a dreadful thing to say, but I have wondered in my darker hours that, if everything were legal, wouldn't it be kind of a Darwinian solution to a lot of problems? Who are the bikies that you see who are cruisin' around with no helmet or with a hat turned around like that yoyo in Cheap Trick? They're dummies, and if they splatter their brains all over the sidewalk, they're not going to be collecting food stamps.

Isn't it too bad that the great truths are all such lies.

I'm not making an enemy; I'm keepin' one.

First comes smiles, then lies. Last is gunfire.-Roland Deschain, of Gilead

If I can get it down on paper without puking all over the word processor, then as far as I'm concerned, it's fit to see the light of day.

Money means I can support my family and still do what I love. Not very many people can say that in this world, and not many writers can say that.

I don't want to speak too disparagingly of my generation (actually I do, we had a chance to change the world and opted for the Home Shopping Network instead), but there was a view among the student writers I knew at that time that good writing came spontaneously, in an uprush of feeling that had to be caught at once; when you were building that all-important stairway to heaven, you couldn't just stand around with your hammer in your hand.